Frozen Interiors


Photo by Jonathan Knepper on Unsplash

Tiny shards of snow

invade my formerly taut skin

as the sky unfolds into

layers of whiteness

against a backdrop that turns

from white to black to gray

hovering above frozen ripples

in the hill that divides

the upper field of green grass

from the lower,

pockmarked with straw-like weeds

and piles of frozen cow dung.

There is no cessation

of tiny white snowflakes while

the landscape becomes

reburied in white and a calm

breathes over the firm earth

though I am still rife with

cellular connections,

nerves popping

on the brink of explosion

as if that frozen pile has mutated

my fibers into shards of ice.



Joanne Zarrillo Cherefko

Award-winning educator and published poet: A Consecration of the Wind, Fragmented Roots, and Souls Tilled Like Soil. Website: